Enjoy fast, free delivery, exclusive deals, and award-winning movies & TV shows with Prime
Try Prime
and start saving today with fast, free delivery
Amazon Prime includes:
Fast, FREE Delivery is available to Prime members. To join, select "Try Amazon Prime and start saving today with Fast, FREE Delivery" below the Add to Cart button.
Amazon Prime members enjoy:- Cardmembers earn 5% Back at Amazon.com with a Prime Credit Card.
- Unlimited Free Two-Day Delivery
- Streaming of thousands of movies and TV shows with limited ads on Prime Video.
- A Kindle book to borrow for free each month - with no due dates
- Listen to over 2 million songs and hundreds of playlists
- Unlimited photo storage with anywhere access
Important: Your credit card will NOT be charged when you start your free trial or if you cancel during the trial period. If you're happy with Amazon Prime, do nothing. At the end of the free trial, your membership will automatically upgrade to a monthly membership.
-54% $8.34$8.34
Ships from: Amazon.com Sold by: Amazon.com
$3.71$3.71
$3.99 delivery Thursday, May 23
Ships from: Goodwill of Orange County Sold by: Goodwill of Orange County
Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
OK
Image Unavailable
Color:
-
-
-
- To view this video download Flash Player
Audible sample Sample
Stories of Your Life and Others Paperback – June 14, 2016
Purchase options and add-ons
Stories of Your Life and Others delivers dual delights of the very, very strange and the heartbreakingly familiar, often presenting characters who must confront sudden change—the inevitable rise of automatons or the appearance of aliens—with some sense of normalcy. With sharp intelligence and humor, Chiang examines what it means to be alive in a world marked by uncertainty, but also by beauty and wonder. An award-winning collection from one of today's most lauded writers, Stories of Your Life and Others is a contemporary classic.
Includes “Story of Your Life”—the basis for the major motion picture Arrival
- Print length304 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- Publication dateJune 14, 2016
- Dimensions5.15 x 0.88 x 7.97 inches
- ISBN-101101972122
- ISBN-13978-1101972120
Books with Buzz
Discover the latest buzz-worthy books, from mysteries and romance to humor and nonfiction. Explore more
Frequently bought together
Similar items that may deliver to you quickly
- For the heptapods, all language was performative. Instead of using language to inform, they used language to actualize. Sure, heptapods already knew what would be said in any conversation; but in order for their knowledge to be true, the conversation would have to take place.Highlighted by 2,774 Kindle readers
- For the first time, he knew night for what it was: the shadow of the earth itself, cast against the sky.Highlighted by 2,663 Kindle readers
- Humans had developed a sequential mode of awareness, while heptapods had developed a simultaneous mode of awareness. We experienced events in an order, and perceived their relationship as cause and effect. They experienced all events at once, and perceived a purpose underlying them all. A minimizing, maximizing purpose.Highlighted by 2,610 Kindle readers
- From the beginning I knew my destination, and I chose my route accordingly. But am I working toward an extreme of joy, or of pain? Will I achieve a minimum, or a maximum?Highlighted by 2,146 Kindle readers
- Like physical events, with their causal and teleological interpretations, every linguistic event had two possible interpretations: as a transmission of information and as the realization of a plan.Highlighted by 1,683 Kindle readers
Editorial Reviews
Review
“Chiang writes with a gruff and ready heart that brings to mind George Saunders and Steven Millhauser, but he’s uncompromisingly cerebral.”—The New Yorker
“Blend[s] absorbing storytelling with meditations on the universe, being, time and space. . . . raises questions about the nature of reality and what it is to be human.”—The New York Times
“Shines with a brutal, minimalist elegance. Every sentence is the perfect incision in the dissection of the idea at hand.”—The Guardian
“Meticulously pieced together, utterly thought through, Chiang’s stories emerge slowly . . . but with the perfection of slow-growing crystal.”—Lev Grossman, Best of the Decade: Science Fiction and Fantasy, Techland
"Ted Chiang is one of the best and smartest writers working today. If you don't know his name, let's fix that. Now."—Karen Joy Fowler, author of We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves
"Ted Chiang astonishes. You must read him."—Kelly Link, author of Get in Trouble
“United by a humane intelligence that speaks very directly to the reader, and makes us experience each story with immediacy and Chiang’s calm passion.”—China Mieville, The Guardian
“Ted is a national treasure . . . each of those stories is a goddamned jewel.”—Cory Doctorow, BoingBoing
“Confirms that blending science and fine art at this length can produce touching works, tales as intimate as our own blood cells, with the structural strength of just-discovered industrial alloys.”—Seattle Times
“Chiang derides lazy thinking, weasels it out of its hiding place, and leaves it cowering.”—Washington Post
“Essential. You won’t know SF if you don’t read Ted Chiang.”—Greg Bear
“Chiang writes seldom, but his almost unfathomably wonderful stories tick away with the precision of a Swiss watch—and explode in your awareness with shocking, devastating force.”—Kirkus Reviews (starred Review)
“The first must-read SF book of the year.”—Publishers Weekly (starred Review)
“He puts the science back in science fiction—brilliantly.”—Booklist (starred Review)
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Your father is about to ask me the question. This is the most important moment in our lives, and I want to pay attention, note every detail. Your dad and I have just come back from an evening out, dinner and a show; it’s after midnight. We came out onto the patio to look at the full moon; then I told your dad I wanted to dance, so he humors me and now we’re slow-dancing, a pair of thirtysomethings swaying back and forth in the moonlight like kids. I don’t feel the night chill at all. And then your dad says, “Do you want to make a baby?”
Right now your dad and I have been married for about two years, living on Ellis Avenue; when we move out you’ll still be too young to remember the house, but we’ll show you pictures of it, tell you stories about it. I’d love to tell you the story of this evening, the night you’re conceived, but the right time to do that would be when you’re ready to have children of your own, and we’ll never get that chance.
Telling it to you any earlier wouldn’t do any good; for most of your life you won’t sit still to hear such a romantic -- you’d say sappy -- story. I remember the scenario of your origin you’ll suggest when you’re twelve.
“The only reason you had me was so you could get a maid you wouldn’t have to pay,” you’ll say bitterly, dragging the vacuum cleaner out of the closet.
“That’s right,” I’ll say. “Thirteen years ago I knew the carpets would need vacuuming around now, and having a baby seemed to be the cheapest and easiest way to get the job done. Now kindly get on with it.”
“If you weren’t my mother, this would be illegal,” you’ll say, seething as you unwind the power cord and plug it into the wall outlet.
That will be in the house on Belmont Street. I’ll live to see strangers occupy both houses: the one you’re conceived in and the one you grow up in. Your dad and I will sell the first a couple years after your arrival. I’ll sell the second shortly after your departure. By then Nelson and I will have moved into our farmhouse, and your dad will be living with what’s-her-name.
I know how this story ends; I think about it a lot. I also think a lot about how it began, just a few years ago, when ships appeared in orbit and artifacts appeared in meadows. The government said next to nothing about them, while the tabloids said every possible thing.
And then I got a phone call, a request for a meeting.
* * *
I spotted them waiting in the hallway, outside my office. They made an odd couple; one wore a military uniform and a crewcut, and carried an aluminum briefcase. He seemed to be assessing his surroundings with a critical eye. The other one was easily identifiable as an academic: full beard and mustache, wearing corduroy. He was browsing through the overlapping sheets stapled to a bulletin board nearby.
“Colonel Weber, I presume?” I shook hands with the soldier. “Louise Banks.”
“Dr. Banks. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us,” he said.
“Not at all; any excuse to avoid the faculty meeting.”
Colonel Weber indicated his companion. “This is Dr. Gary Donnelly, the physicist I mentioned when we spoke on the phone.”
“Call me Gary,” he said as we shook hands. “I’m anxious to hear what you have to say.”
We entered my office. I moved a couple of stacks of books off the second guest chair, and we all sat down. “You said you wanted me to listen to a recording. I presume this has something to do with the aliens?”
“All I can offer is the recording,” said Colonel Weber.
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
Colonel Weber took a tape machine out of his briefcase and pressed play. The recording sounded vaguely like that of a wet dog shaking the water out of its fur.
“What do you make of that?” he asked.
I withheld my comparison to a wet dog. “What was the context in which this recording was made?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“It would help me interpret those sounds. Could you see the alien while it was speaking? Was it doing anything at the time?”
“The recording is all I can offer.”
“You won’t be giving anything away if you tell me that you’ve seen the aliens; the public’s assumed you have.”
Colonel Weber wasn’t budging. “Do you have any opinion about its linguistic properties?” he asked.
“Well, it’s clear that their vocal tract is substantially different from a human vocal tract. I assume that these aliens don’t look like humans?”
The colonel was about to say something noncommittal when Gary Donelly asked, “Can you make any guesses based on the tape?”
“Not really. It doesn’t sound like they’re using a larynx to make those sounds, but that doesn’t tell me what they look like.”
“Anything--is there anything else you can tell us?” asked Colonel Weber.
I could see he wasn’t accustomed to consulting a civilian. “Only that establishing communications is going to be really difficult because of the difference in anatomy. They’re almost certainly using sounds that the human vocal tract can’t reproduce, and maybe sounds that the human ear can’t distinguish.”
“You mean infra- or ultrasonic frequencies?” asked Gary Donelly.
“Not specifically. I just mean that the human auditory system isn’t an absolute acoustic instrument; it’s optimized to recognize the sounds that a human larynx makes. With an alien vocal system, all bets are off.” I shrugged. “Maybe we’ll be able to hear the difference between alien phonemes, given enough practice, but it’s possible our ears simply can’t recognize the distinctions they consider meaningful. In that case we’d need a sound spectrograph to know what an alien is saying.”
Colonel Weber asked, “Suppose I gave you an hour’s worth of recordings; how long would it take you to determine if we need this sound spectrograph or not?”
“I couldn’t determine that with just a recording no matter how much time I had. I’d need to talk with the aliens directly.”
The colonel shook his head. “Not possible.”
I tried to break it to him gently. “That’s your call, of course. But the only way to learn an unknown language is to interact with a native speaker, and by that I mean asking questions, holding a conversation, that sort of thing. Without that, it’s simply not possible. So if you want to learn the aliens’ language, someone with training in field linguistics -- whether it’s me or someone else -- will have to talk with an alien. Recordings alone aren’t sufficient.”
Colonel Weber frowned. “You seem to be implying that no alien could have learned human languages by monitoring our broadcasts.”
“I doubt it. They’d need instructional material specifically designed to teach human languages to nonhumans. Either that, or interaction with a human. If they had either of those, they could learn a lot from TV, but otherwise, they wouldn’t have a starting point.”
The colonel clearly found this interesting; evidently his philosophy was, the less the aliens knew, the better. Gary Donnelly read the colonel’s expression too and rolled his eyes. I suppressed a smile.
Then Colonel Weber asked, “Suppose you were learning a new language by talking to its speakers; could you do it without teaching them English?”
“That would depend on how cooperative the native speakers were. They’d almost certainly pick up bits and pieces while I’m learning their language, but it wouldn’t have to be much if they’re willing to teach. On the other hand, if they’d rather learn English than teach us their language, that would make things far more difficult.”
The colonel nodded. “I’ll get back to you on this matter.”
* * *
The request for that meeting was perhaps the second most momentous phone call in my life. The first, of course, will be the one from Mountain Rescue. At that point your dad and I will be speaking to each other maybe once a year, tops. After I get that phone call, though, the first thing I’ll do will be to call your father.
He and I will drive out together to perform the identification, a long silent car ride. I remember the morgue, all tile and stainless steel, the hum of refrigeration and smell of antiseptic. An orderly will pull the sheet back to reveal your face. Your face will look wrong somehow, but I’ll know it’s you.
“Yes, that’s her,” I’ll say. “She’s mine.”
You’ll be twenty-five then.
* * *
The MP checked my badge, made a notation on his clipboard, and opened the gate; I drove the off-road vehicle into the encampment, a small village of tents pitched by the Army in a farmer’s sun-scorched pasture. At the center of the encampment was one of the alien devices, nicknamed “looking glasses.”
According to the briefings I’d attended, there were nine of these in the United States, one hundred and twelve in the world. The looking glasses acted as two-way communication devices, presumably with the ships in orbit. No one knew why the aliens wouldn’t talk to us in person; fear of cooties, maybe. A team of scientists, including a physicist and a linguist, was assigned to each looking glass; Gary Donnelly and I were on this one.
Gary was waiting for me in the parking area. We navigated a circular maze of concrete barricades until we reached the large tent that covered the looking glass itself. In front of the tent was an equipment cart loaded with goodies borrowed from the school’s phonology lab; I had sent it ahead for inspection by the Army.
Also outside the tent were three tripod-mounted video cameras whose lenses peered, through windows in the fabric wall, into the main room. Everything Gary and I did would be reviewed by countless others, including military intelligence. In addition we would each send daily reports, of which mine had to include estimates on how much English I thought the aliens could understand.
Gary held open the tent flap and gestured for me to enter. “Step right up,” he said, circus barker-style. “Marvel at creatures the likes of which have never been seen on God’s green earth.”
“And all for one slim dime,” I murmured, walking through the door. At the moment the looking glass was inactive, resembling a semicircular mirror over ten feet high and twenty feet across. On the brown grass in front of the looking glass, an arc of white spray paint outlined the activation area. Currently the area contained only a table, two folding chairs, and a power strip with a cord leading to a generator outside. The buzz of fluorescent lamps, hung from poles along the edge of the room, commingled with the buzz of flies in the sweltering heat.
Gary and I looked at each other, and then began pushing the cart of equipment up to the table. As we crossed the paint line, the looking glass appeared to grow transparent; it was as if someone was slowly raising the illumination behind tinted glass. The illusion of depth was uncanny; I felt I could walk right into it. Once the looking glass was fully lit it resembled a life-size diorama of a semicircular room. The room contained a few large objects that might have been furniture, but no aliens. There was a door in the curved rear wall.
We busied ourselves connecting everything together: microphone, sound spectrograph, portable computer, and speaker. As we worked, I frequently glanced at the looking glass, anticipating the aliens’ arrival. Even so I jumped when one of them entered.
It looked like a barrel suspended at the intersection of seven limbs. It was radially symmetric, and any of its limbs could serve as an arm or a leg. The one in front of me was walking around on four legs, three non-adjacent arms curled up at its sides. Gary called them “heptapods.”
I’d been shown videotapes, but I still gawked. Its limbs had no distinct joints; anatomists guessed they might be supported by vertebral columns. Whatever their underlying structure, the heptapod’s limbs conspired to move it in a disconcertingly fluid manner. Its “torso” rode atop the rippling limbs as smoothly as a hovercraft.
Seven lidless eyes ringed the top of the heptapod’s body. It walked back to the doorway from which it entered, made a brief sputtering sound, and returned to the center of the room followed by another heptapod; at no point did it ever turn around. Eerie, but logical; with eyes on all sides, any direction might as well be “forward.”
Gary had been watching my reaction. “Ready?” he asked.
I took a deep breath. “Ready enough.” I’d done plenty of fieldwork before, in the Amazon, but it had always been a bilingual procedure: either my informants knew some Portuguese, which I could use, or I’d previously gotten an intro to their language from the local missionaries. This would be my first attempt at conducting a true monolingual discovery procedure. It was straightforward enough in theory, though.
I walked up to the looking glass and a heptapod on the other side did the same. The image was so real that my skin crawled. I could see the texture of its gray skin, like corduroy ridges arranged in whorls and loops. There was no smell at all from the looking glass, which somehow made the situation stranger.
I pointed to myself and said slowly, “Human.” Then I pointed to Gary. “Human.” Then I pointed at each heptapod and said, “What are you?”
One of the heptapods pointed to itself with one limb, the four terminal digits pressed together. That was lucky. In some cultures a person pointed with his chin; if the heptapod hadn’t used one of its limbs, I wouldn’t have known what gesture to look for. I heard a brief fluttering sound, and saw a puckered orifice at the top of its body vibrate; it was talking. Then it pointed to its companion and fluttered again.
I went back to my computer; on its screen were two virtually identical spectrographs representing the fluttering sounds. I marked a sample for playback. I pointed to myself and said “Human” again, and did the same with Gary. Then I pointed to the heptapod, and played back the flutter on the speaker.
The heptapod fluttered some more. The second half of the spectrograph for this utterance looked like a repetition: call the previous utterances [flutter1], then this one was [flutter2flutter1].
I pointed at something that might have been a heptapod chair. “What is that?”
The heptapod paused, and then pointed at the “chair” and talked some more. The spectrograph for this differed distinctly from that of the earlier sounds: [flutter3]. Once again, I pointed to the “chair” while playing back [flutter3].
The heptapod replied; judging by the spectrograph, it looked like [flutter3flutter2]. Optimistic interpretation: the heptapod was confirming my utterances as correct, which implied compatibility between heptapod and human patterns of discourse. Pessimistic interpretation: it had a nagging cough.
At my computer I delimited certain sections of the spectrograph and typed in a tentative gloss for each: “heptapod” for [flutter1], “yes” for [flutter2], and “chair” for [flutter3]. Then I typed “Language: Heptapod A” as a heading for all the utterances.
Gary watched what I was typing. “What’s the ‘A’ for?”
“It just distinguishes this language from any other ones the heptapods might use,” I said. He nodded.
“Now let’s try something, just for laughs.” I pointed at each heptapod and tried to mimic the sound of [flutter1], “heptapod.” After a long pause, the first heptapod said something and then the second one said something else, neither of whose spectrographs resembled anything said before. I couldn’t tell if they were speaking to each other or to me since they had no faces to turn. I tried pronouncing [flutter1] again, but there was no reaction.
“Not even close,” I grumbled.
“I’m impressed you can make sounds like that at all,” said Gary.
“You should hear my moose call. Sends them running.”
I tried again a few more times, but neither heptapod responded with anything I could recognize. Only when I replayed the recording of the heptapod’s pronunciation did I get a confirmation; the heptapod replied with [flutter2], “yes.”
“So we’re stuck with using recordings?” asked Gary.
I nodded. “At least temporarily.”
“So now what?”
“Now we make sure it hasn’t actually been saying ‘aren’t they cute’ or ‘look what they’re doing now.’ Then we see if we can identify any of these words when that other heptapod pronounces them.” I gestured for him to have a seat. “Get comfortable; this’ll take a while.”
Product details
- Publisher : Vintage; Reissue edition (June 14, 2016)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 304 pages
- ISBN-10 : 1101972122
- ISBN-13 : 978-1101972120
- Item Weight : 2.31 pounds
- Dimensions : 5.15 x 0.88 x 7.97 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #3,548 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #12 in Science Fiction Anthologies (Books)
- #25 in Short Stories Anthologies
- #105 in Short Stories (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Discover more of the author’s books, see similar authors, read author blogs and more
Customer reviews
Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.
To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. It also analyzed reviews to verify trustworthiness.
Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonReviews with images
-
Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
The plot is actually quite simple. Aliens called "heptapods" visit earth. Their motives for the visit are unknown and they really do nothing but try to communicate with people. The communication is kind of lopsided in that it is we (humans) that learn heptapod talk and the heptapods make no effort to learn human language. But as it turns out, the heptapod languages are the most interesting. There are two of them: a spoken and a written one. The spoken speech is like ours – “linear” with well defined time progression and subject/verb relationships. This is heptapod A. The interest, and real subject of the story, is heptapod B – the written language.
In the B talk, the sentence script is two-dimensional (not one, as ours is.) Sentences swirl about a page and a single sentence may fill the whole page. There is no well- defined tense. The sentence represents an event as it evolves through time. This is a reflection of the least time principle. The interpretation given to Fermat’s hypothesis is that a person starting out at one point must know where it will end up to compute a least time path. The person must, in some way, experience all the paths possible to the conclusion and the person must choose the least time path.
Viewed in this way, there is no present past or future. There is a set of paths representing complete events. And in the end, when the “heroine” of the story masters heptapod B, her tenses blur. All the events of her life are present in her experience all at once. This is at once comforting and frightening. Chiang weaves all of these ideas into a single story, just like heptapod B blurs tenses and other grammatical entities.
I should point out that this story has been made into a movie – Arrival. I was a little worried about the transition to the screen when I saw the trailer. The heroine exclaims “I know why they’re here!” But the story never made that claim. In fact, the gist of it was that there really wasn’t any way to know why the aliens visited. That would have required intense study of volumes of heptapod B text! It would have been the result of some complex optimization algorithm minimizing (or maximizing) some unknown cost function based on the whole history of heptapod civilization. Or, if the movie keeps with the story, the only obvious reason for the alien visit was for the heptapods to introduce us to their worldview by teaching us their languages. Let’s hope for the best!
The second story is a kind of hardcore theology. In our real lives, horrible things happen. God does not speak to us to explain why these things happen. We see no credible evidence of a divine source of these outcomes. We can always attribute these things to random occurrence, and not to some reasoning entity. But what if there was immediate evidence of divine intervention in all these events. What if we actually saw angels and had momentary windows opened into heaven or hell? How would we feel about our position in the universe, our relation with the “divine.” Pretty heavy! But that’s the path the story takes us down.
So, to sum up, these are difficult stories to puzzle on. But they are truly worth the effort. They address the major issues in our daily lives, even though they get a “fantasy” label.
OVERALL REVIEW: the collection is excellent. This actually feels a bit like reading a collection of Black Mirror episodes; each story is a sort of runaway exploration of a singular "what if?" concept. In fact, each story is written in a distinct style, especially impressive since these were written over the course of many years. Several are in first person, some are told in a distant, omniscient 3rd person, one is told in a confusing 1st and 2nd person narrative. Some are distinctly emotional and colored in vivid emotional tones, some are distant and cold and detached feeling. The stories run the range of ancient, Biblical settings to late 19th century, to modern day, to near future. But overall, this collection of short stories feels satisfying in the sense of each one being standout.
Now I'll give short reviews on each individual story, spoiler free:
TOWER OF BABYLON
This takes place in ancient Babylon, and is ostensibly historically accurate; all the place and people names are real. But this story centers around these ancient people improbably building an enormous tower to heaven, to LITERALLY open the vaults of heaven. The story is told from such a mechanically sound and realistic sense, with so much detail, that as the reader, you're more than willing to set aside some disbelief and go with the premise. The twist to this story is actually just as mechanically mindful as the rest of the telling of the story was, and despite the nature of it, I found it oddly satisfying and quaint.
UNDERSTAND
This story, like Tower of Babylon, and most of the stories, starts out on solid footing before shooting into the sky. The premise is solid and instantly believable in today's world of medical breakthroughs, and involves a patient being brought back from a vegetative state with an experimental drug. But the drug results in some unexpected side-affects ... Ultimately, I found the ending to be bizarre and just about senseless. It's one of those endings that makes me wonder if I'm just too dense or slow to read into it enough to be blown away. That said, the author's literary style during the telling of the story is spot-on, perfectly illustrating through narrative structure the rapid changing of the character themselves.
DIVISION BY ZERO
This is one of the less fantastical stories in this collection, but still uses a specific narrative design to tell a story both literally and figuratively. Of course, this story is also about math, one of my weakest areas, so much of the story kind of flew over my head. However, one of the two characters is not a mathematician, so this creates an opening for some exposition for the less versed readers. In the end, the story is not as much about math ... and I sort of got the ending to this story, but it's one of those things where it would probably help to discuss this with a reading club or a literature class to tease out all of the layered meanings.
STORY OF YOUR LIFE
This is the short-story that is inspiring the movie "Arrival". It's also one of the more interesting and mind bending stories, since it switches narrative styles constantly, and involves flashbacks. Essentially (without spoilers, but this helps first-time readers), there are two time-lines: the main story, in which communication occurs with aliens, and various flashbacks. Making this more intriguing is that the main story is told in 1st person, but the flashbacks are told in 2nd person, in a strange sort of future tense. There's a reason for this, be assured. The eventual ending is emotional in a way I didn't expect and left me wondering about the implications set up. I look forward to seeing the movie version of this, because, like several of these short-stories, this deserves a full-length movie and/or novel adaption.
SEVENTY-TWO LETTERS
This takes place in an alternate reality version of late 19th century / early 20th century England. It's hard to say, because the central premise is that the world is built on using combinations of the Hebrew alphabet (a 72 letter combination) to invoke a "name" to induce certain magical qualities in things. I know what I said must sound stupid, but like all of these short stories, the author sets this up in a way that is well grounded, logical, and believable enough for you to set aside disbelief. The author also does a fantastic job of adopting the type of language, slang, and style that would be appropriate for a story told in this time era, making it that much more immersive. That said, I thought the ending was too sudden and weak and like the central conflict was barely resolved.
THE EVOLUTION OF HUMAN SCIENCE
This is the shortest story in the collection, and is written in the style of a magazine article. Thus, it's also only a dozen or so pages in length. Therefore, this functions less like a story, and more like a bit of open-ended speculation on the author's part. This makes this entry the weakest and least satisfying in the collection.
HELL IS THE ABSENCE OF GOD
This is one of the more fantastical and imaginative stories in this collection. It's heavy on the religious speculation, but not preachy by any means. In fact, I liked this story for it's rather interesting and almost darkly comical depiction of a real-world Christian God and his angels. I can't say much more without spoilers, but suffice to say, I rather liked this story. The ending feels trite and odd, but I think I kind of understood it in the context of the rest of the story. And the author's narrative style is perfect, taking on a detached but wizened sort of air, like that of a classic parable or fable.
LIKEING WHAT YOU SEE: A DOCUMENTARY
This story is told in a faux documentary style, like the sections are transcripts of recordings taking from various people being interviewed, along with a few news broadcasts and speeches. There is no back and forth question style here, but more like someone was asked to give their full-length thoughts on something and the story here is that. It actually works pretty well for the premise, which is that a neural implant is developed which deprives people of the ability to recognize facial beauty. This is actually based in true observational science of people that have suffered a brain lesion in a particular part of the brain that controls this. Anyway, the idea is interesting, and explored evenly from both sides of the issue, as to whether such a technology is good or bad. This is less a story and more of a work of speculative, train-of-thought type of story, but it's still very satisfying as a work of fiction.
---
Overall, I recommend buying this collection of stories. I'd love to see a few of them optioned as TV shows, movies, or full length novel adaptions (beyond just Story of Your Life / Arrival).
Top reviews from other countries
Highly recommend this for science fiction fans, and if you enjoyed the movie arrival this contains the story it's based upon
Happy and expansion is what I feel when a think of, reread, or read, his timeless work.